words & photos, z to a

Endlessness

Four Twelve
Four Twelve

There Is the Endlessness

of time, of course, sliced inwardly;
no matter how brief the moment,
halve it again, and the endlessness

of change and sea and fire and sky
will be stirring once again beneath
the leaves, like the toad you once

held as a child, its pale throat
pulsing soft as water until it
scrabbled and you let it go.

~Michael Bazzett


photo: Spring on Baranof Island, April 2012, a slightly posterized view, looking generally toward the west and a lens full of action.